Sometimes
by IFallLikeLeavesAndSnow
Summary: A peek into the minds of each of the Burners, and how they help each other through troubles, even when they don't know it.


Sometimes

MC

Sometimes, he thinks he'll choke.

In the dark of the night, when the rest of the Burners are sleeping, he feels his chest constrict. Its all just too much. It feels like the weight of the world is pressing down on him, as crushing as the weight of Deluxe above. His throat goes dry, and he panics. Kane is unrelenting, and he has seemingly infinite resources. It seems like everyday some new nightmare is unleashed on Motorcity, and everyone, Chuck, Julie, Dutch, even Texas look towards him for leadership, for some impossible plan. Sometimes, when he looks around, and sees the trash, and dirt and grime, he wonders if it's even worth it. What's the point really? He'll get tired eventually; he'll be a bit too slow or too fast on a turn, miss a shot on a Kanebot, someway or another, it'll all come crashing down on him. For what? A city run by people like the Duke. Who don't care so much about freedom as they do having power. He tries to breathe, he tries so _**so hard**_, but eventually, he thinks, he's going to drown. Motorcity is big, too big, and each of the gangs are vying for control. He's beset by enemies on all sides, and even his allies aren't entirely trustworthy, as Rayon proved.

The dark is closing in now, encroaching on his vision, obliterating everything. It seems like nothing can stop it, nothing can hold back the waves of despair, as his carefully built gates come crashing open, and he feels so very much alone. And then he hears Chuck snoring.

Despite the walls between them, the noise cuts through the air; and Mike realizes that until then he wasn't the only one still awake. Its such a simple noise, but comforting, almost like the rev of Mutt's engine, if it was attached to a chainsaw. And just like that, the dark is gone. Because he's not alone, by any stretch of the imagination. Somehow, in a series of events that could only be explained as miracles, he's found them, his family. In Deluxe, after his sister had disappeared, he'd become an orphan, and then a soldier, and for awhile, the other cadets were his family; and a monster had been his father. But here, down in Motorcity, he'd found a new one, a better one. An awesome old man with a strange taste in food. A shaggy haired, shy kid (with even more questionable taste in food), and unassailable skills with computers. A cheerful, stubborn girl, who refused to back down on anything. An afroed guy with amazing painting skills, and a knack for weaponry. Even a wild, energy filled, kung-fu maniac.

No matter what happened. No matter what new, horrifying machines or bioweaponized creatures Kane threw at them, they had his back. They helped him see things differently. There's more to Motorcity than dirt and grime, there's a pulse. Even if it's shrouded in the shadow of Deluxe, Motorcity is _alive_. Sure, there were people like the Duke; people who didn't care about the lives of others, who were content to let the world turn to ruin so long as they weren't affected; but they weren't the only ones. Motorcity was full of people who _did _care, people who _did_ want to take a stand, and make a change, and people who _did_ care about the blissfully unaware denizens of Deluxe.

Chucks snores continued to reverberate through the walls, and Mike smiled, as he drifted off to sleep. Sometimes he thinks he might choke, but most of the time?

He breathes easy.

MC

Sometimes he wonders.

Just how long, he thinks, before they cast me aside. How long before they give me the look, start a sentence with I'm sorry. How long before they point him out the door. Chuck's good, he knows he's good. There are very few who could boast his skills and be truthful. So he knows he's good, knows it deep in his bones. He also knows, however, that he's useless.

His weapon, if it could be called that, was a slingshot. His abilities as a programmer have failed him on more than one occasion, because he didn't have the time. He cant even drive a car, not really. Despite all of Mikes lessons, its the best he can do to avoid crashing Blonde Thunder three out of five times. He's loud, he screams in Mikey's ear all the time; he's a massive distraction. He can't fight to save his life. There's no denying it, Chuck is a burden.

So he wonders. He wonders how long this amazing life of his can last. Eventually they'll get tired of him, they'll find someone even better, someone who can probably drive, or at least throw a punch without throwing themselves. His friends would probably like them more, they probably wouldn't scream nearly as much as he did. His friends, oh, how he wonders how long he'll be able to call them that.

In Deluxe, he was a nobody, a smart nobody, but a nobody. He had zero friends, thanks to his almost supernaturally nonexistent social skills. Chuck was shy, Chuck was nervous, Chuck was a loser. Every high score, every exemplary performance, every new, innovative program just served to further alienate him from his peers. Even nerds can be bullies, and Chuck was a perfect target. Too many times had he opened up, allowed new people in, only to find that they were tricking him, waiting to get close so that when they cast him aside, he hurt even more, as bit by bit, his heart was ripped away. Eventually he closed his heart off, like he closed himself off in his perpetually dark room, the glass walls made perfectly opaque. He stopped trying, and contented himself with crafting his programs, and tinkering with designs, and sneakily sifting through Kaneco's restricted files. It was there he discovered the truth. The lethal bots, the unnatural biobeasts, the _experiments_.

So Chuck leaves Deluxe. He makes his way down to Motorcity, after wiping out the Kaneco spydrive secretly housed in his (and everyone's) personal Kaneputer (only then does he really get the ridiculousness of that name) along with half the collected data in Kaneco's R&amp;D department with a nasty little virus. When he's done, there isn't a single record of Chuck in any of Kane's files, which is exactly how he want's it to be.

It takes him nearly two days to get down to the city, and by that time, he's tired, filthy, and starving, having already devoured the container of Kanecube gelatine. His mandated clothing is ruined, covered in mud, dirt, and a viscous yellow liquid he doesn't even want to _think_ about. When he finally arrives in Motorcity, he's hoping that maybe, despite all the horror stories, he'll catch a break, because he kind of wants to die right now. He almost gets his wish too. In his sleep deprived state (not wishing to be devoured by mutated rats, he'd barely slept) Chuck hadn't even heard the car.

He's nearly turned into a paste, and only a mixture of luck, awkward footwork, and an admittedly skilled driver save him from certain death. As he lies on the cold ground, trying to get his breath back (and failing), he looks at his potential murderer/savior, and sees something shocking. Mike Chilton, the great deserter, holding out his hand, a worried look on his face. The car that nearly mowed him over is painted an absolutely gorgeous shade of green, and the designs on the side just enhance the look. Without really even thinking about it, Chuck grasps the offered hand, and is hauled up.

What follows is a conversation that he couldn't remember if he tried, but it somehow ends with him riding with Mike to a place owned by a man called Jacob, for both food and rest (though he's sure Mike mentioned something about medical attention in there somewhere). The next fifteen hours or so are a blur, and before Chuck knows it, he's full, rested, and helping Mike fend off some Kanebot's.

And for awhile, things were good. Others joined their little group, and Chuck found that he was opening up to these new people, these Burners. Despite the fact that he didn't accept the title for a few months (just before they met Dutch), Chuck found himself getting along, laughing with them, enjoying himself. Bit by bit, Chuck felt those tiny pieces of his heart come back, a shred for every smile from Julie, a piece every time he and Dutch worked on a project.

But even then, he doubted, and he wondered. The jokes and jibes from Texas, the silence when he made a joke, the strange looks he got when he almost slipped about his, for lack of a better word, _skill _with a car. For every little nitpick, and prod, he shriveled, and he wavered, wondering, if maybe, just maybe, it was all a big trick. If they were just using him. And he thinks if it is, that he'd probably shrivel up all the way; turn into a ball and never open up again; because if that happened, every piece he'd gotten back, sown carefully back into place, would be ripped apart, piece by piece, as the threads that connected them, snapped. A chunk to Dutch, a piece for Julie and Texas, and the rest, for his closest friend, Mike.

But then, before he can out think himself, before he scares himself so badly that he breaks those threads himself, he remembers. He remembers that no ones jokes hit all the time, not even Mikes, he remembers all the times when his jokes do work, and all the little things in between that help affirm his friendships. He remembers his friends protecting him, and he remembers protecting _them_ from bots, and beasts, and even a gigantic magnet with teeth. He remembers them defending him against the Duke, and their joy for him at winning (he swears he'll tell them the full story someday).

Chuck begins to drift to sleep, and already his mouth is open, preparing to snore. Sometimes Chuck wonders if he'll have to leave; but the rest of the time?

He knows he wont.

MC

Sometimes she worries.

She has every reason to. Her father is a megalomaniacal monster, and her best friends are doing their level best to destroy his life's work. On one hand, he's her _father_, and on the other, he's _Kane_. She wishes it was easy to see the distinction, the difference in them. But the more she learns, the more she sees what he's capable of, the more she becomes aware that they aren't two separate beings, they're one and the same. One moment, he's Daddy, and the next, he's screaming, or casually ordering the potential death of hundreds or even thousands of people, and she sees the tyrant. She want's to change him, she tries so hard it hurts sometimes, but there's only so much she can do. After the Genesis Pod incident, she can't deny it any longer. Her father, Kane, had ordered what could be considered no less than a genocide.

When the crisis is averted, when her secret is still her's and Clair's only, and she has time to think, she comes to a heartbreaking realization. Tears well up in Julies eyes, because that's all she is, _Julie_, no last name. She could never be the daughter of someone who could commit such atrocities. Undeniable proof has been presented to her; her father, no, _**that man**_, was beyond redemption. For all that he might love her, he had no love for anyone else. She might still love him, but when push came to shove, Julie was a Burner, not a Kane, and briefly, she wonders if she ever was. Tears well up behind her eyes, and for once, she lets them flow, because she's Julie now, just Julie, and Julie gets to cry; Kane's didn't cry, but Julie's did.

Sooner or later, she'll be caught; she's had enough close calls by now that she knew it was inevitable. Her father would see her, and if she was lucky, and he didn't immediately throw her into a 'rehabilitation' cell, or try to kill her on the spot, he would ask her a question, to which she already had an answer. Even if the Burners abandoned her, even if her new family turned their backs on her, she'd go. Because Deluxe could never be viewed the same way again. Beneath the glimmering white, and the scent of superchemical cleansers, there was blood. The buildings, and cubes, and everything else might glare like a diamond in the sun, but it was stained with scarlet.

But Julie doesn't really think they'll turn their backs, because they know that a persons past doesn't make their future, everyone had come from Deluxe, but they had washed themselves of the white, and bathed in the radiance and color of Motorcity. It was more than a city drowning in the shadow of the megalopolis, it was a place of rebirth, of new beginnings. Julie had never given the Burners a last name, and maybe she'd never take one. She was Julie to them, and that was all that mattered

The tears dried, and a small smile stole over her face. Already, her sadness was falling away, and she could feel an elation rising within her; she finally knew where she belonged. Hoping in 9 Lives, Julie gunned the engine, and tore away from the empty clearing, riding back towards the Burners, feeling lighter than ever, and a freedom she had never known before filled her.

Now if only she could get Clair to come with her.

MC

Sometimes, he's silent.

Not that Mike, or Chuck, or Dutch, or Tammy would believe it. They definitely wouldn't believe what exactly it _was_ that made him quiet. Its not the sight of beautiful cars (that would look so much cooler with sharks, or dragons, or shark-dragons or maybe _dragon-sharks),_ and it's not the disappointment he gets when his vidglasses get busted. Its those moments whenever Chuck is almost blasted by a bot, or when Dutch's car almost blows up (he should really let Texas look at that, he could probably fix it). Despite the fact that the others doubt him sometimes, (which they totally shouldn't cause Texas is awesome like that) he knows that he can protect them. The problem is, even though he's, you know, **Texas**, even Texas can't be there all the time.

It's after those moments that he's quiet, because he's remembering; remembering what life was like back in Deluxe, before the Burners, before Texas. While all the Burners had spent time in Deluxe, (cep for Trixie, she was still livin there) Texas had spent the shortest time there, and he wasn't even Texas when it happened. Back in the old days, Texas had gone by another, much less awesome name. Before, he'd been known as Ernest 'Ernie', or as his grandmother called him, even though he observed no traditions of his heritage, and didn't really even look Hispanic, Ernesto Wetz.

Every time he fails to get rid of a bot that hurts someone, every time he screws up, (which isn't often, but Texas still doesn't like it) he remembers what it was like as Ernie. Little Ernie, stupid Ernie, _scared_ Ernie. Ernie hadn't been one for school, or grades, and he definitely didn't want to become a Kaneco cadet, but that was where the similarities between Ernie and (the totally awesome manliness that was) Texas ended. Texas was strong, Ernie was weak, Texas was brave, Ernie was a coward, Texas had awesome kung-fu moves, Ernie was so small it looked unhealthy.

Eventually though, he couldn't take it any more. After an accident with a Kaneco construction drone left him parentless, Ernie had been changed. He'd gotten braver, he'd gotten tougher, Ernie had been Texasified. With a shrug of his shoulders, and a too large hat from his dad, Ernie had begun the long trek down to Motorcity. He was nine at the time.

So sometimes, Texas gets scared for the others, not that he would ever admit it. Because if Texas can't protect his friends, then he's no better than Ernie who couldn't save his parents. So he tries to protect them, especially Chuck, and Dawn, because they seem like they need the most protection. Of course, it never really works, and Texas never stays quiet for long. Every time Daddy Texas starts to come out, he sees just why he isn't really needed; because his friends can take care of themselves. Chuck can be really destructive with his little window boxes, as a mission at a recommissioned bot factory proved, and even if he couldn't his scream could probably count as a weapon.

And Sar- no, **Julie** could fend for herself just fine. She was wicked with that boomerang (not as wicked as Texas could be, but she's not Texas) and her holowhatchamajig's were cool, and great for distractions (even Texas admitted he couldn't do that, but maybe with a giant robot alligator he could). Dutch is super lucky, and he can take care of himself, and Texas doesn't usually even have to think about Mike.

So sometimes, when he feels like a failure, and remembers little Ernie, Texas is quiet. But with friends like the Burners, in a place like Motorcity, silence never lasts for long.

MC

Sometimes he regrets.

There's just so much to do down here, and it almost overwhelms him. First he has to fix Mutt, or 9 Lives or Stronghorn, or Whiptail, and he doesn't want to begin thinking about trying to fix up Blonde Thunder. With requests for an upgrade, a tuneup, or even a paint job, combined with his work on Whiptail, he has almost zero time to paint, much less relax. Every once in awhile, he thinks that maybe it wasn't worth it, coming down here. Maybe he should have just stayed in Deluxe. He just feels like he's stretched so thin his body is going to snap.

He thinks about what he left behind up there. He misses the fresh, clean air, and the warmth of the sunlight. He misses his parents, which he knows sets him apart from all of the Burners except possibly Julie. He misses his brother, who made mistakes, and his mother who loved him so dearly, and his dad who would look at him with pride in his eyes. Life down in Motorcity isn't as glamorous as it is in Deluxe. There's trash everywhere, and there's always the threat of an attack by a mutated animal or a Kanebot. Sometimes he misses the ease of life he had up there, and the security that came with knowing what to do.

But then, he'll catch himself, and remember just _why_ it is he left. The air in Deluxe isn't really fresh, and it isn't just clean, it's too clean, it tastes slightly like bleach, and the odor of clean clothes hangs permanently in the air. The sun isn't overtly warm up there, and though those who live there don't tend to notice it, everything has a slight blue tint from the sunlight reflecting through the ILSS field, which is far from needed now, but it serves as a way to prevent Deluxians from escape by sky.

In Deluxe, nothing was really yours, not the clothes you wore, the food you ate, not even the words you spoke. Kane cracked down on every little thing that could be a symbol of defiance, and the people had the freedom of Kane's way or no way. There was security in Deluxe, but it definitely wasn't from knowing what to do. Because in Deluxe, the security wasn't to keep threats out, it was to keep you in, and the only reason you knew what to do, was because it was the only thing you _could_ do. That was why he'd left; as he'd grown older, he got the uncomfortable, itchy sensation that he was living his life in someone else's body, like a stranger in his own skin. When he was threatened for merely painting, he knew he couldn't do it anymore. He refused to let someone else dictate his life for him.

With nothing but a sack of food and water, and a tearful farewell, he'd left his family, and begun the walk towards Motorcity. When he thinks about it; when he wonders if it was worth it, he usually only gets as far as fresh air before he stops. Motorcity might not have perfectly clean air, and it might not have a sun, but it had other things, better things. It was covered in the work of others. Each street corner had a piece of art in one form or another. The lights above gleamed like stars in the darkness, something not even Deluxe had, thanks to it's light pollution. Most importantly, it had the Burners, his second family, or maybe just the family he never knew he had; with three other brothers, a sister, and a floating green dog.

So sometimes, Dutch misses his family up above, and sometimes he regrets it, and everything he's lost. But then he remembers everything else that he's _found_, and that regret vanishes. Because at the end of the day, he has another family to go home to, even if they ask for favors, and they welcome him with open arms.

And that's all he really needs.

MC

A/N: Alright, well, I guess that's the end of my first Motorcity fic. I've had this idea floating around in my head for awhile, and I figured now was a good time, since I've been getting back into the show. I hope you all like it, and sorry if the parts on Dutch and Mike seem weak. Mike was the first and I hadn't really picked up steam, and I wrote Dutch a day after the others, and I don't think I was really in the groove. Regardless, I hope you enjoyed it. Please read and Review.

P.S. Any notes on characterization would be very appreciated.


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